


Starstruck

by ParadoxalPen



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Humor, I promise it's not as dark as the tags imply, It's actually really fluffy and happy, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Romance, i don't know how to tag i'm sorry, implied mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 16:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxalPen/pseuds/ParadoxalPen
Summary: You can't catch lighting, but you can be struck by it.





	Starstruck

**Author's Note:**

> Faberry – In which I put our oblivious babies who mutually pin after each other in a world full of monsters and gods  
> If that wasn’t clear enough – It’s a Percy Jackson AU. The song Rachel ‘writes’ is Lightning by Alex Goot, and when I heard it used in the Faberry trailer ‘Make a Wish’ it totally spurred me on to write this, even if I’m absolute garbage at song scenes. This was s’posed to be a 2k one-shot to let me take a break from my other wips, but then it turned into this monster ooppsie. It’s my first time writing romance or any of the sort, so go easy on me, yeah?  
> Not really graphic violence in the two dream scenes, with child/domestic abuse in the second one. Pretty much skippable, just start scrolling when you see Russell and stop when you hit normal font instead of italic, the loose ends the scene ties up can be mostly deduced without reading.

Rachel doesn’t know when exactly she falls in love with Lucy Quinn Fabray.

She doesn’t know when her heart starts thumping at a quirk of lips, or when her stomach starts to flutter at hearing lines of literature quoted in quiet excitement. Hell, every time she sees Quinn, her chest fills with so much affection she wonders how the Hades it hasn’t burst yet.

Honestly, she blames Quinn for being too perfect.

Because somewhere between almost dying, fighting gorgons, saving gods, almost dying, getting betrayed, almost dying, losing friends, and almost dying again, she manages to fall in love head-first with silky blonde tresses and golden hazel eyes, in every sense of the word.

She knows it exactly the moment she sees Kronos bring down his scythe on an already bleeding badly Quinn, and she completely disregards the monster lunging for her, the only thought running through her head being _Protect Quinn_.

She light-teleports faster than she has ever done in her meager seventeen years of life, just in time to see Kronos’ blade descend upon her, and she mummers, “I love you.”

And then there is darkness.

And pain. _Definitely_ pain.

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

_It’s her first dinner at Camp Half-Blood, and Finn is still chattering away next to her, the unclaimed boy leading her to the pavilion fire to sacrifice a portion of her meal to a god or something._

_Naturally, she dedicates it to Barbra Streisand._

_But as she settles down at the Hermes table, barely crammed in with all the unclaimed, someone catches her eye._

_A blonde girl, sitting all alone at Cabin One’s table, with her back ramrod straight and shoulders tensed._

_All in all, she looks incredibly lonely, as if she’s bearing the entire world on her shoulders, and Rachel frowns at the sight._

_Next to her, Finn sees where her gaze is directed, and tugs on her arm. “Oh boy,” he chuckles nervously, “Yeah, you don’t want to go anywhere near her.”_

_She turns her head to look at him with sharp but curious eyes, “Why?”_

_Finn scratches the back of his head, like he doesn’t know how to proceed with the conversation, and Noah slips in, somehow finding an empty seat (or more likely, having smashed his way through to one)._

_The co-head counselor of the Ares cabin looks just as he did when they were thirteen at temple, giving them a lazy grin, “What’s up?”_

_By that time, Rachel’s already back to staring at the unnamed girl, studying her every move. There was_ something _about her that seemed to draw the singer in, all the way down to the small things like how the blonde seemed to do everything with carefully controlled precise movements, picking up her dinnerware with such elegance and grace it should be downright illegal._

_It seems like she isn’t the only one fascinated by the sight either, judging by all the looks sent the girl’s way, familiar and unfamiliar. The girl seems to be quarantined off by an invisible wall, and the thought sparks something in Rachel, making her frown even wider._

_“Another one?” she hears Noah’s gruff voice ask, tinged with an emotion she can’t quite decipher, which draws her attention back just in time to see Finn hum his confirmation._

_“I don’t understand why she’s isolated like this,” she says abruptly, “Did she do something wrong? Every camper seems to be watching her out of the corners of their eyes, but no one ever_ talks _to her, what-”_

 _“Look, Jew Baby,” Noah sighs tiredly, like he’s had this conversation dozens of times before, “You’re still that girl my mom thought I would end up marrying and have perfect Jewish babies with, and I like you, so take this advice from me, yeah? She’s Zeus’ kid, legacy of both Athena and Aphrodite, like as in the_ prophecy _child. Hanging around her won’t do you any favours. Just save yourself the heartbr- the pain and stop thinking about her, it won’t be worth it.”_

_Rachel’s eyes narrow in protest. “So you’re telling me that because she was born to the King of Olympus and apparently the subject of what I assume to be a dangerous prophecy, she was made an outcast? What kind of despicable logic is that?”_

_“She did this to herself,” his jaw and eyes harden. “She’s going to lure you in with her hazel eyes and amazing brain and perf– it doesn’t matter. But when you get close enough to even think about knocking those walls of hers down, she’ll push you away like she does to everyone else. Lucy Quinn Fabray is_ fated _to be alone.”_

 _“So you just…_ gave up _on her?” she whispers, incredulous._

_It felt good to be able to put a name to the face though; Lucy Quinn Fabray - even her name sounded exquisite._

_“Oh no…I know that look, and I’m_ not _going to let_ you _, of all people,_ _think that they know anything about what happened,” Noah angrily snarls, “I fucking tried, okay? I fucking tried and she pushed me away like I was nothing!”_

_At his loud outburst, most of the table turns to look at what caused the commotion, staring with tentative but curious looks, but he’s too worked up to even notice. He surges forward, but Finn intercepts by blocking his way, “Look dude, I think you need to cool off. You don’t have to make a scene about this.”_

_A beat passes, and with a grunt, Noah storms off in the direction of the arena, probably going to bash a few heads and let off some steam._

_“I still think that you’re being jerks,” Rachel says lightly after a while, even though the mood is nothing but, quiet chatter slowly filling up the dining pavilion once more._

_“I know,” Finn answers, a cheerless laugh coming out._

_“He loved her, didn’t he?” Rachel asks softly._

_Finn smiles sadly, “A lot of us did.”_

X-X-X-X-X

Well obviously, she doesn’t die, because where would the fun in that be?

She groggily wakes up to the sight of Quinn hovering over her with a concerned look on her face, which quickly morphs into quiet relief.

Which of course, then morphs into narrowed eyes and an intense gaze.

“Rachel Berry, you are the most lovable idiot in the world and I can’t believe that you _fucking jumped in front of Kronos’ fucking scythe_ to save me.” Quinn practically growls, though by the end of her sentence, she can’t quite resist the smile tugging on the end of her lips.

Rachel’s heart threatens to go into overdrive at ‘lovable’, but then she sits up sluggishly to see Quinn clearly, and she frowns.

“You’re bleeding!” Rachel exclaims, wake awake now, “You should’ve found one of my siblings to heal you, what if it gets infec-”

“Rae,” Quinn waves her off with a nonchalant hand, “I’m fine, I already got enough healing that I’m not going to die any time soon. You’re more important anyway.”

It leads the diva to remember her ‘last words’, leading her to blush a beet red. Since Quinn hasn’t brought it up, Rachel assumes that she didn’t hear her, to which she doesn’t know if she should feel relieved or disappointed.

She pushes it to the back of her mind though, because _hello_ , Quinn has dried blood on her forehead and _Di immortales, is that blood leaking through her shirt?_ What the Hades has her cabinmates been doing, she swears that she’s going to find whoever was in charge of healing and rip them a new one godsdamn it! 

“You okay there, Superstar?” Quinn teases, the familiar quirk of lips familiar and comforting.

“No, I am not okay!” she shrieks, “What is with you not getting appropriate healing, it seems like you never head to the infirmary after you thoughtlessly throw yourself in battle after battle, and _Lucy Quinn Fabray do not give me that look_ , get your ass here right this instant so I can heal you!”

The quirk of lips appears again, and it’s obvious that the blonde is resisting the urge to laugh, which makes Rachel grumble petulantly, scooting over on the bed so that Quinn can sit in front of her.

“Maybe I don’t like going to the infirmary because I only like it when you heal me,” Quinn says standoffishly right as Rachel presses her hands to the blonde’s back to begin healing her. The diva’s hands jerk as her heart seems to skip eight beats at once, all the while trying to ignore the way that Quinn’s toned back muscles flex underneath the slightly ripped shirt, sending tingles down her arms all the way down to…ahem, _lower_ regions that she’d much like to ignore.

At this point, blocking off her rather… _strong_ affections from their empathy link is second nature to Rachel, though she’s sure that Quinn, or herself for that matter, would never abuse their mutual trust and open the connection forcefully. It was always better to block it just in case the link allows the other girl to read her emotions _too_ closely after all, because the conversation that would surely follow afterwards is _not_ something that Rachel wants to have at all.

Quinn winces at first contact, and Rachel rushes to soothe the sting with added healing power. Quinn chuckles lowly, husky and breathy in a way only the blonde can do. “You really shouldn’t be doing this you know, you literally just got stabbed in the stomach by a godly weapon, you need to be resting and not healing wannabe heroes.”

“Oh please, you were the one that-” Rachel furrows her brow, “Wait, how’d you save Olympus again?”

“Maybe I didn’t,” the blonde says mysteriously, a wise sage look plastered on her face. “Maybe we’re all dead and you’re on your way to Elysium, dreaming.”

Rachel rolls her eyes and swats at Quinn’s uninjured arm. “If we’re all dead then I highly doubt that the Titans would let me go to Elysium, Quinn, so spill.”

The blonde sighs dramatically, “As the princess wishes. After you took the blade for me, I kinda flipped, and I went all crazy on Kronos’ ass. Yada yada yada, I saved everyone, got branded as a hero, and now they all love me. Oh, and I kinda threatened your dad to heal you up right away. So…if he comes knocking, I’m totally using you as a shield.”

Huh. So that’s why her body doesn’t hurt as she expects it to. One eye-roll and Quinn turning around to allow Rachel access to her other injuries later, the diva asks, “Why didn’t he heal you then?”

At this, Quinn shrugs. “He had other things to attend to or something. The other campers had to move me to another bed if they wanted to heal me more, and I didn’t want to leave your side.”

At the blonde’s words, Rachel blushes, fighting off the shy smile on her lips. Quinn’s unapologetic demeanor and straightforwardness with her reluctance to leave Rachel makes her elated and sad all at once, because sometimes if Rachel closes her eyes, she can almost imagine that Quinn loves her back the way Rachel wants her to, but then she opens them and the illusion is shattered again.

“I don’t know whether to smack you or hug you for your sweet yet immensely reckless behavior, Quinn Fabray,” Rachel loses the battle of fighting off the bashful smile stretching across her face, before lunging forward with an arm, “But I think I’ll settle for the former.”

“That would be quite counter-productive, Miss Berry,” the blonde sings, darting out of reach from Rachel’s swatting arms, a gleam in her hazel orbs, “And I know all too well how much you love your efficiency-maxed schemes.”

“Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” Rachel narrows her eyes, halted in her pursuit now.

Quinn smirks, “You’d still be tinier.”

“You’re so in for it,” Rachel pounces on the daughter of Zeus and tackling her onto the medical bed with little worry that the now healed-up blonde would get hurt, proclaiming, “Surrender, and you shall be spared the wrath of the great Rachel Barbra Be-”

She’s promptly overpowered and turned on her side, now trapped under the rather comfortable weight of Quinn’s warm body(not that she’d ever admit it, that is). Rachel yelps, drawing a laugh from Quinn, a hearty sound that seems to echo throughout the small room, pulling at the singer’s heartstrings.

“I think you forgot a few things in your coma,” Quinn’s eyes shine with mirth and affection, pinning Rachel’s arms to the bed, “One, I’m not ticklish, and two, I’m much stronger than you, last time I checked the dueling scoreboards.”

“I loathe you,” Rachel groans.

“You love me,” Quinn retorts, leaning closer, her lips quirked upwards.

 _Yeah, I kinda do,_ she thinks, and then somehow, Quinn is even closer, so close their noses are almost touching, and they’re practically breathing the same air. Rachel’s breath hitches, a slow burn making its way across her neck, aided by her heart’s insistent pounding, and lit aflame by the buzz in the air and heat radiating from Quinn’s lithe form.

Rachel’s skin tingles the way it always does when she’s near the captivating daughter of Zeus, like someone’s dragging their fingertips across her skin, touching but not quite at the same time, drawing patterns with sparks aiding their touches.

Feeling warm breath against her face, Rachel can’t help but dart her eyes down to kissable full pink lips, and she wonders, not for the first time, how it would feel to press her own against them. They just looked so _soft_ , and if she just leans up a little bi-

She torturously drags her eyes up to hazel eyes. If she keeps on focusing on their ragged panting, or how _good_ it feels with Quinn’s chest pressed against her own, or how their legs are entwined so intricately she’s sure the blonde can feel the heat coming off in spades from _down there_ , she’s going to do something she’s going to regret.

She already has Quinn as her best friend, and she’d rather be that than be nothing to her at all, so she’ll take what she’ll get – it has to be enough.

But chestnut brown meeting hazel has to be the worst and yet best mistake she has made, because Quinn’s eyes were the first thing she fell in love with, and looking into them and seeing those emotions reflected back at her does _something_ to her.

Her body whirls to life, an electric hum vibrating all throughout her, all the way from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet. Starting up over again just when she thinks that it’s settled, it comes wave after wave, buzzing with such electricity and energy she’s convinced that Quinn is somehow using her powers against her, drawing her in like a magnet.

The blonde’s hazel eyes are dark, burning an almost gold color, and the number of emotions Rachel identifies flashing through the dilated orbs both terrify and excite her, simply because this is _Quinn_ , who makes the diva mad with want just by existing, and then Quinn’s descending and Rachel’s leaning up and-

Santana and Brittany burst through the door, because apparently the universe hates her.

(Or loves her, depending on how you look at it.)

The two jerk apart, as if they had been shocked, to which Rachel thinks that they probably had been to some extent, considering Quinn’s parentage.

Quinn’s hair is all ruffled up, the blonde strands messy and out of place from their previous wrestling, with her face flushed and her chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy irregular breaths. Her eyes are dark and her pupils are blown wide, even under the intense light in the infirmary. Simply put, Quinn looks the epitome of ‘just-been-fucked’, and Rachel’s probably not very far off.

The only difference is Quinn looks even better than Aphrodite, while Rachel probably looks like a dying cat that got run over by a fucking truck.

She doesn’t even remotely care though, because Quinn looks so damn _hot_ like that, with the way that she’s staring at her, shining with something that can only be described as hunger. The throbbing between Rachel’s legs becomes almost unbearable, and she feels her body heating up even more, but she can’t bring herself to tear her gaze away from those amber eyes, even though she knows that she’s going to have a breakdown later when she wonders what all that meant.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you two’ve been dying to bone,” Santana intones, “But stop with the eye-fucking already, the sexual tension is disturbing at this point.”

Rachel finally gets a hold of herself and squeaks in embarrassment, feeling her face flare up even more, if it’s even possible at this point. Quinn, however, isn’t fazed by the crass daughter of Ares, not even looking away from Rachel. “Tartarus must be boring without you, Satan.”

“Wrong religion, Thunder Thighs,” Santana snarks, “Sylvester sent us over to, and I quote, ‘Separate them from fornicating and breeding even more like rabbits’. She’s calling an emergency Senior Council to report…casualties.”

The mention of it brings the room to a somber mood, with even Brittany, usually always ready with a smile, lackluster.

Quinn looks away with pain and regret. “We lost Artie and Mercedes and _so_ many people…I-I’m sorry. I-”

“You did the best you could,” Rachel cuts her off, reaching her arm out to the blonde’s shoulder, “We all did.”

“Don’t go making all of this about yourself, Q,” Santana warns, “If you’re blaming yourself, then blame us too. They died an honorable death, so don’t go stomping all over it.”

Brittany elbows her girlfriend’s side, shooting her a stern look, before softly saying, “They’re in Elysium now, and I bet they’re really happy. So don’t be sad anymore. Rachie’s still here, isn’t she?”

As if to reinforce the daughter of Demeter’s words, Rachel squeezes Quinn’s shoulder gently, assuring her that she’s not going anywhere any time soon.

“I almost lost you,” Quinn chokes out, the words coming out whispered and garbled.

“But you didn’t,” Rachel reminds her, a smile coming up her face for the first time since this conversation started, “You _saved_ me.”

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

_“…Run,” Lee Fletcher chokes out, and Rachel watches as the light drains from his eyes, and with his last breath, he pushes his bow into her hand._

_At his side, his quiver shrinks into a pen cap, and Rachel feels the bow she’s tightly gripping shift back into a pen as well._

_He is dead._

_Rachel panics, frozen with fear. She faintly registers her body shaking, and she feels her left side groaning with pain, but she can’t bring herself to move._

_A few feet away, the Nemean Lion growls, and readies itself to pounce again._

_Lee’s facial expression is still pleading, and seeing it, something within Rachel_ snaps _, and she grabs the pen cap. She doesn’t know how to shift it or the bow, but as she commands in her mind the Greek word for_ Change _,_ _Αλλαγή, it does, bow in one hand and quiver in another._

 _It looks different from when Lee had held them, but when she puts the quiver behind her back, its magic automatically attaches it to her, claiming her as its owner. She nocks an arrow, and having no idea how to fire a bow, she briefly wonders if she’s going to die here, but somehow, the bow feels_ right _in her hands, the size and weight more attuned to Rachel than anything she’s ever felt._

_The Nemean lion’s now running towards her at breakneck speed, but she doesn’t even feel her heart quicken. She’s at peace, and when the Nemean Lion draws near, she unleashes her arrow._

_The arrow seems to chirp, flying forward like a bullet, and it combusts into a sound wave right as it hits the lion’s skin, halting its movements._

_Honestly, that should’ve been the first sign for Rachel to start running for her hills and check herself into an alyssum, because_ what the Hades did she just do _, but all the brunette feels is calm. Which is probably another sign that she’s going crazy._

 _As the Nemean Lion recovers and snarls at her, letting loose a mighty roar, Rachel instinctively_ knows _what to do, moving seamlessly. Aiming at its open mouth, she exhales, and lets the arrow go._

_The arrowhead glows brightly, alight with fire, and it seems to defy the speed of light as it zooms towards its target. It hits dead center, and the Nemean Lion howls in pain, before it is devoured by a bright flash of light. When it dissipates and Rachel can see again, all that’s left is scattering dust and a lion pelt._

_She’s barely aware of her ragged breaths, or the carnage all around her, because all she can do is look at the bow in her hands. Golden and covered with beautiful inscriptions and carvings of the sun, she gawks at the inscription right in the middle of the grip._ R.B.

_By this time, most of the campers had heard the ruckus and arrived, surrounding her._

_Somewhere along the line, she starts fricking_ glowing _, like she’s a vampire or something,_ _and she thinks that the campers looking right now must be seeing quite a sight(and a heart attack to go along with it too), what with her bow and quiver and her glowing skin. There’s no getting weirder than this._

_She looks up…and she stands corrected, it gets even weirder, because apparently, there’s a hologram floating above her. She barely makes out an alight golden bow, with an arrow nocked, which is of course, as is expected by now, glowing._

_And then boom, just like that, everything hits her at once._

_Lee’s body is still lying limp on the ground next to her, and at the sight of it, all the adrenaline seems to leave her body, and she works to swallow down the gulp in her throat._

_The campers are still gaping at her, and Lee’s body looks broken and battered, and Rachel wants to scream at the sky, because all she can think of is_ Why isn’t anybody doing something _, because a hero had just fucking died, and all everyone’s doing is staring at her._

_Evidently, her desperate demands are answered, because soon, the crowd parts like the red sea, and Lucy storms in, wearing an irritated scowl, though her eyes are tinted with sorrow. Hands at her hips and jaw clenched, she barks out orders, and campers rush to Lee’s body to attend to him._

_If Rachel isn’t as shaken up as she is now, she would be fascinated by the seamless way Lucy commands people, drawing attention wherever she goes. But she is, and all she can do is wordlessly stare as thirty seconds later, Lee’s body is carried away in a shroud and his blood is cleaned up, like his heroics never happened. The thought sends a tangible pain through Rachel’s body, and the sting in her eyes becomes more pronounced, her throat tightening._

_The campers are back to staring at the floating hologram still above her head, and she feels exposed and awkward and_ tired _, because Lee had_ died _for her, and she just wants to go back to her little corner at the Hermes cabin and weep for the boy._

_But then, Lucy abruptly drops to her knee before her, wearing a steely look, and Rachel can only stand, dumbfounded, as Sylvester, who had been silently watching from the side, steps out and yells through her bullhorn, “It is determined!”_

_One by one, campers start to kneel as well, effectively creeping out the singer even more, and for once, Sue Sylvester is completely serious when she says, “Hail Apollo, Averter of Evil, All-Seeing, Sharp-Shooter, and Lightbringer. Hail Rachel Berry, Daughter of the Sun God.”_

_She passes out from being weirded out too much._

_The pain from her bleeding side is probably a big factor too._

X-X-X-X-X

 

Things pass by in a flash. Soon, they’re standing in the rebuilt throne room, with the gods all sitting at their thrones.

Zeus starts to get up to talk to Quinn, but one withering look from her has him retreating to his seat with a regretful look. Rachel reaches out to grab the blonde’s hand in support, and Quinn squeezes lightly, stepping closer to the diva so that they’re standing shoulder to shoulder.

Rachel unconsciously leans in closer, molding her form to fit Quinn’s in search of comfort, even though she was the first to offer it. Pulling Rachel flush against her body almost instinctively, Quinn holds her tightly, as if she’s trying to shield her from the outside world. The purpose of the Council meeting is celebratory, but it feels far from it. It’s a reminder of how much they’ve lost, and Rachel can’t find it in herself to allow a shred of accomplishment.

Rewards and gifts are given all around, and though there’s still a heaviness lingering in the air, the gloomy mood slowly lifts. Kurt gains Charmspeak, Rachel’s broken bow is fixed and upgraded, with her empath ability enhanced, and everything is going smoothly.

…Until Zeus goes ahead and offers Quinn immortality.

Rachel’s heart stops. Time slows down around her, and if she isn’t one hundred percent sure Kronos is dead, she’d be pretty alarmed – not that she isn’t already. She seems to cease breathing, and her entire body tenses up, frame rigid. She knows that Quinn would never want to be a goddess, what with her still-there spite for them even after all these years, but the thought of Quinn becoming one and leaving everyone- leaving _her_ behind has her scared shitless, because godsdammit, Rachel is head-over-heels in love with Lucy Quinn Fabray.

Looking to her left, she chances a glance at Quinn, but her face is blank. Rachel prides herself on her ability to read the blonde no matter what, hard-earned after many near-death encounters, so to see the daughter of Zeus’ face as expressionless as a white canvas almost sends the brunette into a fretted panic, and it only becomes worse when Rachel finds that Quinn’s blocked off their empathy link.

She’s already accepted the fact that Quinn would never return her feelings, but if she disappears from her life completely, Rachel’s not sure if she would ever recover.

But then Quinn’s face relaxes and a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and Rachel resists the urge to smack herself for not believing in her. They had promised each other that they would never leave the other’s side, and Rachel whole-heartedly trusts in it, because Quinn has never lied to her before, and they would follow each other to the ends of Tartarus.

Quinn won’t leave her.

And she doesn’t. She goes far and beyond that.

Amazing, beautiful, and absolutely _perfect_ Quinn denies godhood and goes ahead to ask for equality instead.

Rachel wonders if it’s possible to fall more and more in love with someone with every breath of air and every beat that passes, because that’s exactly what’s happening. Warmth blossoms all throughout every pore and fiber of her being, filling her heart with so much love and adoration she feels like she’s going to combust if she doesn’t find a way to let it all out soon, and it takes every bit of acting prowess she possesses for her not to start grinning like the cat that just ate the canary.

Quinn looks straight at her when she says that she’s got plenty of things to live for, and when she smiles that special smile that’s just for her, that _I’m smiling because of Rachel Berry_ smile, spanning across her entire face, Rachel’s heart _soars_.

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

_“I’ll do it.”_

_Quinn’s voice, loud and clear, echoes throughout the entire Rec Room, piercing the silence._

_Her face is grim yet determined, with her posture poised and unyielding like always. Gaze steely, she meets Sylvester’s sharp eyes without hesitation._

_When no one answers, Quinn(Not Lucy, Rachel reminds herself yet again) repeats, “I’ll do it. I’ll find Poseidon’s trident or whatever.”_

_Finally, Mr. Schue nervously shuffles, the satyr looking like he would like to be anywhere else than there, “But Quinn, it’s too dangerous, you’re going to-”_

_“No,” Sylvester cuts him off, bullhorn right in his ear “A quest is demanded, and if Pikachu thinks she can saddle up and leave the kiddie pool to join the big kids, then by all means, let her.”_

_Mr. Schue looks as if he wants to protest, but he knows that he cannot defy the will of the gods. Head hung, he sighs and nods his acquiesce._

_“I’m going with you Q,” Santana pipes up, the fiery Latina’s voice defiant, “I got your back, remember?”_

_The daughter of Zeus softens slightly, though Rachel’s sure that she’s the only one able to tell, due to her seat directly across from her at the ping-pong table._

_“Enough of this sentimental crap, it’s blinding my eyes,” Sylvester spits, “You still need a third member, and I know for sure it’s not gonna be Ms. Everything is happy and rainbows of your little Unholy Trinity, since she hasn’t been here a full month, which means IT VIOLATES CAMP RULES for her to go. Why? I don’t know, ask old Thunderpants upstairs!”_

_Thunder rumbles above them, and in response, the activities director yells, still using her bullhorn, “Oh stuff it, it’s not my fault you didn’t read the fine print in our River Styx swore-on contract that I have unlimited right to insult you!”_

_Rachel ignores the urge to gape at the clearly insane woman, and instead looks at the rest of the room, wondering why isn’t anyone else volunteering. Brittany looks downcast at not being able to go, and Santana’s jaw is clenched tightly._

_When all the other head councilors don’t meet Quinn’s or Santana’s gaze, Rachel realizes that no one is going to step up, and she looks to Noah._

_His head is stubbornly turned to the side, with his arms crossed, almost petulantly in a ‘what can you do’ fashion. Rachel furrows her brow and stares at the boy, trying to will him into speaking up._

_He doesn’t. Neither does anyone else, for that matter._

_Rachel wants to scream in frustration, but since it’s not her place, and she has as much right as Brittany to volunteer, all she can do is watch helplessly as Quinn and Santana resign themselves to go on the quest alone._

_She doesn’t know why she’s so attached to Quinn even though they haven’t even talked, but every time she sees the blonde’s lonely eyes, Rachel’s heart pangs, remembering when she was the school pariah, shunned and outcasted._

_The image of Quinn’s sad eyes haunts her all the way to when she calls “Lights off”, and she tosses and turns in her bed until the ungodly hours of the morning._

_Impulsively, she sneaks out of the cabin, only to be stopped by Jesse St. James._

_Just having returned from the toilet, her half-brother raises an eyebrow at her, “What are you doing?”_

_Caught red-handed, Rachel tightly gripes the strap of her supply bag, preparing to make a run for it. She’s about to book it when Jesse says with a sigh, “I bet you’re off to be the so-called ‘hero’ and try to win Quinn’s affections, aren’t you? They always do that, only to dejectedly come back with tails between their legs and the realization that I’m the much better choice anyway.”_

_Rachel stares at him, jaw agape, and at a lost of what to say. She isn’t sure whether to think him delusional or simply trying to give her an out, but then she realizes that it doesn’t matter, because by then, Jesse is already at the cabin’s doors, waving her off, “Try to come back in one piece, yeah? It would be a shame if you perish and I have to take the troublesome duties of head councilor, no matter how glorious they may be. Off you go now, Ice Queen Quinn awaits no one, especially little gnomes like you.”_

_And with that, he disappears through the doors, leaving behind a dazed Rachel._

What the hell just happened?

_It takes two seconds for her to start up again and start sprinting to the camp entrance. She manages to catch Quinn and Santana just as they depart, and the former hears her first, spinning around lightning quick in a battle stance, two daggers in hand._

_When she recognizes Rachel as a camper, she relaxes – well, as much as Quinn Fabray can – and her daggers retract into two silver rings. The daughter of Zeus narrows her eyes, “What do you want?”_

_At Quinn’s intense gaze, Rachel’s breath catches, because up until now, with the blonde directly looking at her, she’s never realized how absolutely_ beautiful _Quinn looks._

_Her blonde locks falling effortlessly graceful down elegant shoulders, framing an angular face and pronounced cheekbones, it’s no wonder that she’s a legacy of Aphrodite. But that isn’t what strikes Rachel the most. It’s the blonde’s eyes._

_Quinn’s hazel eyes hold a precise gleam to them; defiant and unyielding, with Athena’s trademark intelligence embedded into their very seems. The magnificent golden color is hardened and tempered, too old and weary for someone as young as herself, like the blonde has seen it all._

_And yet, there are intriguing sparks within them, the only clue that she is Zeus’ spawn. But the mystique that those fascinating orbs grasp as they swirl in their quest for truth? Rachel is certain that it is all the girl in front of her._

_Rachel stands no chance against the raging storm of sparkling hazel. She is struck down by the electric lightning that is Lucy Quinn Fabray, falling with only the hope that someone will catch her._

_“I’m coming with you on your quest.”_

_It’s spoken firmly without hesitation, and when Quinn’s gaze trails up and down her form, searching for any weakness she can exploit, observing her every move, Rachel doesn’t back down. Chin raised in defiance, she meets Quinn’s unspoken challenge, and soon, she can see something in the blonde change._

_Quinn might be an observer, but Rachel is an empath, and she can see the world in those beautiful eyes._

_Grudging respect forms in them, and the daughter of Zeus gives her a sharp nod, before turning around and heading through the entrance._

_Santana barks out a laugh next to Rachel, and an appraising look is directed towards the shorter brunette, “She likes you.”_

_“Better not screw this up, eh?” the daughter of Ares calls as she too walks through the entrance, “Are you coming or what?”_

_Rachel looks at the two’s backs, illuminated by the rising sun, and grins, before following after._

X-X-X-X-X

They don’t talk about the almost kiss, or the ‘I love you’.

And Rachel’s so thankful that Quinn’s still by her side that she can’t find it in her to care.

(Much. She still manages to start writing a song about it, because she’s Rachel Berry, _duh_.)

She’ll take Quinn however she can get her.

Things settle down after the war, as they always do. Pyres are lit, new cabins are built, and life moves on. It’s how it is, no matter how much it pains Rachel to think.

And as all things pass, she can almost imagine herself getting over Quinn. But heavens know that she wouldn’t ever want to or could, for that matter. She blames Quinn for being too perfectly perfect, with her pearly white teeth and captivating eyes. Honestly, being apart from her even for a day had her grumpy and sad like a lost puppy, so distancing herself seemed like a sure-fire way to insanity.

They carve out all the names of the fallen on a giant rock near Zeus’ fist, at her suggestion, because she can’t bear the thought that they might be forgotten. They find every single name of the demigods or legacies that went down fighting for what they believed in, and when the entire camp gathers in front of the too-large-for-comfort rock and holds a minute of silence, she’s proud to say that they don’t distinguish between who fought for the Titans or the Gods.

The camp holds a feast in all the heroes’ honor, and like many times before, Rachel totally ignores camp rules to sneak over to Quinn’s table, using her light powers to turn herself invisible.

She’s in position to jump-scare the blonde when said girl in question rolls her eyes affectionately. “Sit down, Rach, you know you’ll never able to get one up on me, right?”

Turning back to normal, Rachel huffs and pouts, sliding into the seat next to her, with Quinn’s arm automatically snaking to it’s rightful – well, rightful in Rachel’s mind – place around the brunette’s waist. Snuggling into the blonde’s warmth, and tired from archery practice, Rachel half-heartedly complains, “I despise your overpowered Atmokinesis powers.”

“Says the empath with light and fire powers,” Quinn retorts, an amused smile flickering on her face. It’s clear she’s distracted though, and Rachel doesn’t even need their empathy link to tell – the daughter of Zeus’ usually sharp and attentive gaze is unfocused, brow slightly furrowed.

“Wha’s wrong?” Rachel asks as she nuzzles drowsily into the daughter of Zeus’ neck, the scent of breezy mint and vanilla white oak that’s uniquely _Quinn_ luring her to sleep.

“’S nothing.” Quinn leans her head against Rachel’s, and the brunette sighs contentedly at the comfortable weight before reluctantly pulling away from her source of warmth, forcing the other girl to look at her.

“This would be easier if you weren’t so infuriatingly frustrating, you know.”

“And this would be easier if you weren’t so endearingly stubborn,” Quinn counters easily, matching the shorter girl’s nonchalant tone with a shrug.

Narrowing her eyes, Rachel scowls childishly, “Your offhand compliments won’t work this time Fabray, you know I’ll just hound you until you talk, so I beseech you to save my wonderful voice for singing instead.”

At the end, the brunette nods, satisfied with her conclusion, and Quinn laughs softly, causing Rachel to grumble sullenly. Taking the daughter of Apollo’s hand in her own and interlacing them together, absently rubbing patterns into the skin as the pavilion’s ambient chatter washes over them, Quinn smiles, “You’re kind of adorable, you know that?”

“Only kind of?” Rachel teases, deciding to let the taller girl off the hook for now, since she knows that if it was really important, the blonde would tell her.

“I guess you’re right,” Quinn plays along with their charade, seemingly mulling her thoughts over, “You’re not adorable at all.”

Gasping scandalously, the brunette mock-glares at the other girl, “I demand you take that back right this instant!”

“Okay, okay,” Quinn laughs, “You’re the adorable-st person to ever exist, happy now?”

“Well, considering that Quinn Fabray just broke the English language for me, quite, actually.”

Affectionately rolling her eyes, the blonde tucks the shorter girl back into her side, and they eat in comfortable silence, until Quinn softly admits, “…I got into Yale.”

Delighted, she pulls Quinn into a hug, “What? That’s amazing, Quinn…I’m _so_ proud of you! When did you get the letter?”

“Day before my birthday, early admissions,” Quinn lightly smiles, though her mind seems like it’s off somewhere else, “I was going to tell you, but then Kronos happened, and well…”

Rachel frowns, “Don’t tell me this is what’s getting you so upset?”

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Quinn mumbles, eyes darting to the food on the table, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up, it was dumb of me-”

“Quinn,” Rachel interrupts, “You can tell me anything, you know I’ll never judge you, right?”

“Yeah,” Quinn exhales, “I know…It’s just that I’ll be going to New Haven, and you’ll be going to NYADA, and I know we can teleport any time with our powers, but…it won’t be the same. I’ll miss you.”

“You don’t even know if I’m going to NYADA yet,” Rachel points out, even though she knows that she’s just stalling, since listening to Quinn talk like she’s her _girlfriend_ is proving to be too much in one go, with her thoughts a jumbled mess, clinging onto ‘I’ll miss you.’ _But like a best friend would, dummy._

“They would be crazy not to accept you,” Quinn dismisses the notion without a second thought, and the gesture sends another tangible pang through Rachel’s heart, because no one else has ever believed in her that much, and she curses whatever deity that’s out there for making such a perfect person.

Quinn hums for a beat, “And if they didn’t, I’m sure the combined efforts of the entire Aphrodite cabin and I would charm some sense into them…Or maybe the Ares cabin could beat some into them instead, I don’t care.”

Rachel’s breath lifts, “You’d do that for me?”

“Rachel, I’d do _anything_ for you, remember?” The blonde smiles sweetly at her, and Rachel falls in love all over again.

Jaw set determinedly, she starts to list, “At least two Iris Messages a day, teleporting whenever we have the time, and going to bed together no matter what.”

At the last part, she almost blushes, because _ohmygod I sound so much like I’m her girlfriend this is seriously happening whatthefuck_ , but it’s all worth it when Quinn shoots her a rarely seen shy grin, slowly morphing into a full-blown one as she tackles the brunette into a tight embrace.

“You’re _perfect_ ,” Quinn breathes into her hair, and when the blonde pulls away, she pecks her lightly on the cheek, sending a flush down Rachel’s neck, warmth reverberating throughout her body.

Quinn might be really touchy-feely with her and it might lead to midnight breakdowns or identity-crises, but _damn_ if it doesn’t feel good.

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

Turns out, Rachel _does_ get into NYADA.

She receives her letter a few months after, and everyone throws an impromptu party for her and everyone else who received good news for their college applications.

Most of the gang end up choosing New York-based universities, because after all, it is _their_ city, and Quinn almost goes with Columbia before Rachel knocks some sense into her.

Life is good. Finals are over, Summer is coming up, and Quinn and her are making a trip to visit Rachel’s dads in Lima.

If only Rachel had Quinn in the way she wanted too.

But she shan’t be picky. At this point, she’s lucky to be alive and with her friends, and living the life in New York City.

The doorbell rings at precisely nine in the morning, and Rachel practically trips over herself to get the door before Shelby does.

Raising an amused eyebrow at her, her mother stifles a grin at her ‘very obvious crush’, as Shelby had oh so wonderfully phrased it a few days before, and Rachel hastily looks away, blushing furiously as she opens the door.

Feeling lighter as soon as she sees Quinn, she shoots the blonde a wide smile, chirping happily, “Good morning, Quinn!”

Rubbing tiredly at her eyes, the taller girl returns a sleepy smile. “Morning, Rae.”

Ignoring Quinn’s obvious dislike for the early hours of the day, Rachel takes her hand and leads her to the living room, though at this point, the other girl might as well be living with them, what with all the time she spends at the Corcoran-Berry household.

Hearing the daughter of Zeus snicker, Rachel follows her gaze to the bags she had packed for their three-day trip to her dads’, though mountain seemed like a better word for it, the bags stacked up even higher than Rachel. Quinn sends a ‘Are you serious?’ look towards her, and the diva whines, “What?”

Chuckling along with Quinn, Shelby hands over a (still rather large-sized) carry-on bag to her, rolling her eyes. “I knew this would happen, so I already packed the necessities for our dear Rachel here. Take care of my daughter for me, gods know that she would be lost without you.”

They share a laugh as Rachel indignantly huffs, crossing her arms and stomping her foot.

“Betrayed, by my own mother nonetheless!” She exclaims in mock-outrage, before turning to Quinn with her, as Santana likes to call it, ‘Big brown doe eyes that look fucking sad and make you feel like shit for fucking everything’, “Quinn, you don’t think that, do you?”

The second the blonde sees her eyes, she shakes her head, “Nooope. I’m not falling for it this time, your guilt-trip empath voodoo can go to Tartarus for all I care, it got old years ago.”

Sighing dramatically, Rachel pouts, “Of all the people it doesn’t work on, it has to be you, doesn’t it?”

“Call it karma for my Charmspeak not working on you,” Quinn snorts, “You ready yet? You can’t expect me to wake at eight a.m. and not crash on the nearest available bed, it’s inhumane.”

“Inhumane is inhaling that monstrosity you call bacon. I hope the voices of the slaughtered innocent pigs follow you to sleep.”

“That’d probably be better than most of the dreams I have,” The other girl jokes darkly, and Rachel softens, squeezing the hand still firmly in hers. The blonde, seeming to understand, squeezes back, and in an attempt to rescue the mood, says, “And plus, you have bacon in the fridge that you’re going to cook as payment for forcing me to wake at such an ungodly hour.”

Not attempting to put up much of a fight, Rachel hums her consent and tugs Quinn to the kitchen, not even noticing that during their little ‘moment’, Shelby had retreated to her bedroom.

Quinn frowns, “Rae, you don’t have to do that, I was just kidding. I know how much you value your vegan practices, I can forego bacon if I have to.”

“And that’s why I’m perfectly fine with cooking you bacon,” Rachel shrugs, opening the fridge, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

The smell of bacon quells any protest the taller girl might have had left, and the nearly salivating look on her face makes Rachel giggle. The blonde wraps her arms around her waist and snuggles into her hair, murmuring, “You’re amazing. I’m so doing something for you later, just so you know.”

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” Rachel waves her off, reveling in the blonde’s body warmth. Honestly, she has no idea whether to be grateful or scornful of Quinn’s affectionate tendencies, but it just felt _so damn good_. “At least I can put my rather limited and mediocre cooking skills to use, and I like doing things for you.”

“And that’s why I’m perfectly fine with doing it,” Quinn mimics the diva’s earlier sentence, smiling against her neck.

They stay like that for a while until Rachel finishes frying the bacon, and at how domestic the scene is, she allows herself to pretend and daydream for a few precious moments that they’re more than friends.

A bittersweet taste on Rachel’s tongue, she sighs as they sit at the dining table, grabbing the vegan sandwich Quinn had brought over to munch on. Ignoring her precious bacon for once, the blonde nudges Rachel’s side, “You okay?”

“Just tired,” she shakily replies, and it’s true, because she’s just _so tired_ of hiding her infatuation every day and keeping her emotions blocked from the empathy link, trying to restrain from jumping Quinn at every chance and showering the other girl with love and affection the way she wants to.

“Are you sleeping well? Is it the nightmares again?” Quinn instantly questions, face contorting into one of worry, “Lay down on the couch, I’m giving you a neck rub. I can IM your dads to tell them we’re going to be late if you want to, or we can-”

“Quinn,” Rachel grabs the taller girl’s arm, half-smile on her face at Quinn’s rambles, and a fuzzy warmth running through her heart at the blonde’s sweetness and thoughtfulness, “I’m fine, you don’t have to go through all that trouble for me. Now, finish your breakfast so we can head to Lima, you know how Daddy gets when we’re late, he’ll tear Olympus down with worry.”

She can tell that Quinn wants to protest, but a pleading look from Rachel quells her dissent, and she compromises, “Okay, but I’m still giving you that neck rub when we get there and we’re going to bed early tonight, I’ll drag you there if I have to.”

Rachel tries painfully hard not to linger on ‘ _we’re_ going to bed’ instead of _you_ , but of course she does – who wouldn’t, it’s _Quinn Fabray_ – but she manages to push it away in favor of swooning over how wonderful the blonde is, always ready to drop everything to help the brunette.

A genuine smile lights up on Rachel’s face, “Thank you…For everything, really.”

“You’re stealing my line, Rach,” Quinn’s lips quirk, before her eyes seek the daughter of Apollo’s out, as if she’s trying to convey her feelings through her gaze, “…These three years have meant the _world_ to me, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for staying in my life…I…I-”

“You what, Quinn?” Rachel asks, almost desperately, yet afraid of what she might hear.

A visible struggle wages on the blonde’s face, and it’s apparent that this is important to her, because Rachel, whose Empath powers beyond their empathy link have never worked on Quinn unless both their emotions were turned up to the max, can almost hear the calling of the other girl’s thoughts and feelings, drawing her closer.

Rachel swallows down the gulp building up in her throat, and it’s all she can do to fend off the urge to delve into Quinn’s mind. She refuses to violate the daughter of Zeus’ privacy. She would _never_ do that to her.

The emotions flickering on Quinn’s face seem to reach an impasse, and she becomes a blank canvas once more, “…It’s nothing.”

“Okay.”

It’s all Rachel can muster up the courage to reply, and she can’t stop the disappointment from rising up. She internally scoffs, _Stop getting your hopes up Rachel, what did you think she was going to say, that she loves you? Get over yourself._

The rest of breakfast is spent in awkward silence, and the diva wants to kick herself for pushing the issue, because their usually comfortable companionship is now stunted and suffocating instead.

“I’m sorry,” They both blurt out at the same time.

A beat passes, staring at each other’s apologetic faces, and they burst out laughing. “Truce?” Rachel suggests, and Quinn agrees, laughing alongside her.

Taking both her own and Rachel’s bag, Quinn tugs on the brunette’s hand, “Com’on, let’s not keep the Berrymen waiting, shall we?”

 

 X-X-X-X-X

 

Rachel’s fathers welcome them warmly, although they seem to fuss over Quinn more than their own daughter, Rachel had playfully remarked after her dads had practically shoved her away to hug the blonde beauty, to which they replied that Quinn wouldn’t burn down the kitchen, which was all they needed to know.

Needless to say, that garnered a pouting brunette until Quinn went ahead and kissed it all better, narrowly missing the corner of Rachel’s lips.

Needless to say, that garnered a blushing brunette instead.

They spend the day talking with Rachel’s fathers and getting reacquainted with Lima, time going by lightning fast.

Shelby and New York is a dream come true for Rachel, ever since she was sent there so she could be near Camp Half-Blood when she was fifteen, but Hiram and Leroy Berry were the ones who raised her most of her life, and she will forever be grateful for that.

Soon, it’s dinnertime, and Quinn comes out of the kitchen, holding a giant plate of Rachel’s favorite vegan spaghetti, smelling absolutely delectable. (The spaghetti, obviously, not the blonde, but really, she just smells _so good_ all the time and just- ugh can someone smell pretty, because that’s what Quinn smells like and- Rachel stop, dammit!)

As soon as she eats her first bite, the diva pretty much moans in ecstasy, and she’s not alone, because Hiram groans, “Rachel, remind me why haven’t you married her yet?”

In response, she blushes and turns a colour not unlike a tomato, and it only gets worse as Quinn decides to join in the teasing as well, “Yeah Rae, you gotta get a ring to wife me, I’m not cheap you know.”

Rachel wonders if her jaw can get it together and start talking and not spluttering any time soon, preferably something that won’t be _Yes I want to marry you and have your wonderfully blonde and perfect babies, just take me now._

“I think you guys broke her,” Leroy chimes in, and she nearly screams in relief at the topic-change, before he adds, “Now who am I going to send down the aisle?”

Rachel dies from embarrassment.

(She wishes. If only things could be that simple.)

Dinner goes by in a flash, and soon, Quinn’s enforcing bedtime upon her.

It goes without saying that they’re staying in Rachel’s bedroom together – they’re so codependent on each other at this point that the brunette’s sure that the other’s presence is the only thing keeping their nightmares at bay most nights.

Rachel tries to stay on her side of the bed and ignore the urge to snuggle up close to the blonde next to her, but when Quinn wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close, spooning her, the daughter of Apollo can’t help but push her back flush against the other girl’s lithe form.

Feeling Quinn bury her head in her hair and plant light kisses on her neck, Rachel allows herself to drift into slumber, hoping that her dreams will be filled with sparkling hazel eyes instead of glowing red ones.

Of course, it’s too much to ask, because she finds herself lost in her memories.

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

_Grunting, Rachel finishes off the Empousa she’s fighting, finally dusting it and giving it a first-class ticket to Tartarus._

_She’s about to engage another one when Quinn stumbles out of the cave Ethan Nakamura had fled to, Sword of Hades in hand and blood dripping down her arm. She’s walking with a visible limb, bloody sword haggardly dragging along the ground, and as concern races through Rachel’s being, she doesn’t notice the Empousa she was targeting earlier rushing at her with a dagger._

_Quinn notices before her, and suddenly, Rachel’s being wrapped in a protective embrace. A loud and pained yell fills her ears, and the diva knows what happened, heart going cold._

_Quinn had gone and took the blow for her._

_The blonde chokes out, “Rachel,” and goes slack in her arms._

_Everything happens in slow motion as Rachel looks down to see the Empousa’s hand still grasping the dagger buried in Quinn’s back, blood slowly leaking out of her armor. The Empousa meets her eyes, a cruel smirk on her face, and twists the dagger in deeper._

_Rachel doesn’t see red. Instead, everything becomes muted and dim, her blood running cold, and it’s like Rachel has been pulled out of her body, only watching things unfold from a distance._

_A light blast knocks the Empousa away, and the daughter of Apollo gently sets Quinn down – remembering her vow never to hurt the other girl even in her current enraged state – and creates a light barrier to shield and heal her._

_Stepping out of the barrier, Rachel hones in on the Empousa, now that Quinn is secured and safe. She watches herself as she lifts her hand to shoot a light beam at the pitiful creature, cementing it on the cold hard ground._

_Looking at her hand and flexing it, a sudden realization runs through her mind._

_She’s powerful._

_And she’s going to make this pathetic excuse of a monster fucking pay for hurting her Quinn._

_Light envelops her right forearm, as if her clenched fist was a meteor, and making the shape of a spearhead. Sparks of fire go off like fireworks around her flaring arm, and she slowly treks to the Empousa, brown eyes cold and hard._

_Kicking the monster in the chest as it makes a feeble attempt to get up, she sneers, “I’m going to make you fucking beg for death, you fucktard…But the final blow is never going to come, because you fucking don’t deserve it.”_

_The Empousa hisses in defiance, and Rachel sends her fist flying into its face, a cruel satisfaction at its pained groan. She growls, punching the monster over and over again, “You’ll feel every blow I deal out, and when you’re almost dead, I’ll heal you up, and I’ll do it again.”_ Punch. _“And again.”_ Punch. _“And again.”_ Punch.

_Every word is punctuated with her fist sinking deep into the Empousa, the sickening cracking sounds spurring her on. Every time the monster is close to death, Rachel’s other hand holding its collar heals it, and the cycle goes on and on and on._

_Giving the monster a reprieve to properly bask in its pain, a small smidge of guilt rises up in Rachel’s heart at it’s bloodied body._

_But then she thinks of Quinn’s shirt, seeping of blood, and she sends her fist slamming into the Empousa once more._

_It feels as if Rachel’s body doesn’t belong to herself anymore; rather, it’s fueled by rage and anguish, wanting the creature below her to suffer as much as she is, wanting to torture it until it understands her pain._

_A light barrier surrounds her, dusting any monster that would dare try to enter, and Rachel is like a robot, going mechanically through the motions. She hurls her entire weight at the Empousa over and over again, until it looks deformed and broken, an empty husk of what it was. It has long gone limp, but still on the edge of consciousness at the daughter of Apollo’s healing, and the whimpers it makes are mere pitiful croaks._

_She tries to feel satisfaction at its malformed and distorted body, at the groans and pleas it’s making, but all she can feel is pain, like something is tearing her heart out of her chest and squeezing the life out of it._

_The image of Quinn haunts her, her choked last word ripping holes in her soul and echoing through her brain like a ghost. The monster has to pay. No one hurts her Quinn and gets away with it._

_She thinks she vaguely understands what’s going on. It’s human nature to want to take revenge, after all. But she doesn’t care, she just wants to unleash all her suffering on what’s caused it, and unlucky for the Empousa, its her._

_Out of nowhere, a hand tentatively touches her shoulder, and she flings it away harshly with so much force that the person attached to it falls to the ground with a thump._

_Rising up with her hand now wrapped around the Empousa’s throat, she throws its prone form to the small crater she had created with her endless punches, and fury-filled unfocused pools of fire look at the demigod who dared to enter the barrier._

_“Rachel,” Kurt tries to get through to her, “You’re not yourself. I know you’re upset-”_

_Her jaw clenches even more at his words._ What right did he have, implying that he knew _anything_? _She advances on the boy, all sense lost, with her fist cocked, and he lets out a terrified yelp._

_He’s…afraid of her?_

_But…but that can’t be. He-He shouldn’t be. A flicker of rationality flashes through her, and she fights to regain control of her anger-fueled body._

_At the last second, she turns and sends her fist flying at the Empousa, finally ending its existence. It releases a final pained groan, and it fades away into nothingness, sent to the deep pits of Tartarus. Rachel scowls, thinking that it had not nearly suffered as much as she would’ve liked it too, and kicks at the residing dust._

_Kurt breathes a sigh of relief, and tries again with a different tactic, “Rachel…remember Quinn? She needs you.”_

_The name awakes a sense of warmth in the brunette’s heart. Quinn…needs her? “Quinn…” She mummers, as if the name is anchoring her to the mortal world, and she says it again, this time with more certainty, “Quinn.”_

_Seeing that it’s working, the son of Aphrodite continues urgently, “Yes, Quinn. She’s…hurt, and she needs you to be there for her. But you have to get a hold of yourself. Can you do that for her?”_

_A scene jolts through Rachel’s mind, and she grabs onto it, clutching desperately at the memory. She and Quinn are sitting on a hill as the sun sets, exchanging beads on their camp necklaces. Rachel’s giving the blonde a small quaver note carved from wood, and Quinn’s giving her an intricately detailed book bead carved in the same fashion._

_Rachel remembers herself…saying something, and she tries to recall what she had said then._

_“I’ll always be there for you.”_

_It’s like a bucket of cold water splashing down on her, and she’s herself again, controlling her actions once more._

_She needs to be there for Quinn. She refuses to let her down._

_As she looks down at the small crater of her own doing, pictures of the Empousa’s mangled body rush to the forefront of her mind, and she horrifically stares at the empty space, now filled with dust._ What had she done?

_She barely hears Kurt’s voice calling her name over her hatred and disgust at herself. She’s no better than those monsters are. She’s a stone-cold murderer._

_“Rachel, you’re not a monster.”_

_“You saw what I just did Kurt,” Rachel scoffs with self-loathing evident in her tone, “How am I not?”_

_“The fact that you’re beating yourself over it proves you’re not,” the other demigod counters, “Now are you going to keep feeling sorry for yourself or are you going to help Quinn?”_

_The reminder of the injured blonde sends a stab through her heart, making Rachel lose all other thoughts not related to worry and fear, and she rushes over to the still unconscious Quinn, to find that the wound has mostly been healed up from her barrier, with the dagger taken out and blood flow stopped by one of her cabinmates, now standing to the side._

_Even as the brunette’s head pounds from overexertion and she feels the toll of using her newly unlocked powers weigh upon her, she feels for Quinn’s pulse, and finally breathes a sigh of relief when she finds it steady and beating._

_She thinks that Quinn’s heartbeat is the most beautiful sound in the world, and it’s her last thought before she too, succumbs to exhaustion and fatigue, dropping to the ground with her hand clutching Quinn’s._

X-X-X-X-X

_The next thing she knows, she’s standing in an all too familiar house._

_Shaking off the guilt and pain from relieving the memory of possibly her greatest shame, she focuses on the dreamscape she’s in now, pushing away the regret for later._

_Looking to her right, she sees Russell, drunkenly waving around his broken wine bottle like every time she visits this memory, and that’s confirmation enough._

_Rachel and Quinn’s empathy link is different from the ones Satyrs have. Since Rachel’s an Empath, the range of what it does is greatly increased, but it comes with a much more transparent link between the two’s feelings and emotions._

_The two of them don’t have a problem with it usually, since they basically tell each other everything anyway, but the downfall, if you can even call it that, is that whenever they have dreams – most of the time nightmares – it would be broadcasted to the other, and it ended up taking an emotional toll on them, leading to many nights tumbling into bed crying._

_(Thank fuck that Rachel learnt how to block sex dreams out of their link on the first try, or she’d have probably died from mortification. It was lucky that blocking those seemed to take less energy compared to the heavy-hitting nightmares, where the emotional toll it took would almost destroy her.)_

_Rachel had admitted long ago that she felt guilty for both laying all her baggage on the other girl and invading her privacy at the same time, and in response, Quinn had called her an idiot and that she would take on all Rachel’s burdens for her instead if she could._

_That didn’t stop Rachel from trying to block them from the link though. A week later, she had collapsed during sparring, only to wake up in the infirmary with Quinn in the next bed over, finding out that the blonde had been doing the same as her._

_It resulted in Santana pulling them aside for ‘a lesbian intervention’, calling them dumb fucks and making them promise to stop trying to be martyrs. Their heart-to-heart had ended with the Latina mumbling something akin to “Stupid repressed lesbians and their mating rituals, I mean, just bang already and get on with it”._

_Rachel, shook out of her thoughts by hearing Russell angrily stomp up the stairs to Quinn’s bedroom, follows the man up, knowing all-to-well that the dream would only end when Quinn would wake up._

_Scowling at the man that had no right calling himself a follower of God and not for the first time, desperately wishing she could deck him good without meeting thin air, she reluctantly passes through the door to Lucy’s room, her dream state allowing her to ghost through the solid wood._

_As she’s greeted with the sight of a shivering Judy Fabray covering a six-year-old Quinn’s body with her own, Rachel feels a tangible pang strike at her heart – no matter how many times she witnesses this scene unfold, it’s always jarring and cutting, piercing through Rachel’s soul._

_Quinn, who’s always so untouchable, looks so_ small _and afraid here as Lucy, and Rachel distinctively remembers the first time she had seen this all unfold, she had damn near brawled her eyes out, heart going out to the blonde._

_The door’s kicked down from behind her, and Rachel tries her best to regulate her breathing as Russell throws his wine bottle to the floor angrily, its shards shattering all over the ground. Judy takes the brunt of the glass cuts, but a few hit Lucy’s feet, cutting the pale alabaster skin, and she gasps in pain._

_Rachel’s heart breaks for the girl like all the times before, and her hand unconsciously reaches out in an attempt to do something, before clenching and sticking back to her side as she knows she can’t do anything._

_Judy wraps her arms tighter around Lucy’s waist, mummering, “It’s going to be okay, Lucy, we’ll be okay…”_

_Frustration building up in her, Rachel can’t help but look away as Russell begins his onslaught of drunken kicks and fists while heatedly ranting, Judy doing her best using her body as a shield for her daughter._

_The pained groans and whimpers seem endless, and the brunette prays that it’ll be over soon. She wonders how Quinn is doing, as it has to be much worse, reliving this moment in person._

_Having witnessed this dream too many times to count, it’s harrowing how she knows every breath and movement in and out, wincing before something even happens. She knows that in two seconds, the blue shirt hanging in Lucy’s closet will slip and fall to the floor with an inaudible thump. She knows that right now, there is a yellow bird perched on the tree ranch right outside the window that will chirp exactly a minute later. She knows that right after that, Judy will start begging Russell not to hurt Lucy._

_She knows every beat and moment that passes, and that in itself is another form of excruciating torture._

_Lucy starts crying, silent tears streaming down her face, and Rachel’s body starts shaking, physically wanting to wrap the weeping girl into her arms and hold her until it’s all over, and then some. Seeing the pain and grief on the blonde’s face is heart-wrenching, and the resigned look in her hazel eyes gets Rachel every single time, adding to the already raging emotions running rampant in her from her previous Empousa memory._

_Judy’s heartbreaking pleas are cut short with a slap, ringing loud and clear in Rachel’s ears. Russell grabs her arm and flings her away forcefully off of Lucy, and she hits the wall with a painful thud._

_Lucy, scared and startled, starts backing away using her hands to prop herself up, eyes wide in concern for her mother. Groaning, the older blonde desperately pleads, “D-Don’t hurt her, please, she hasn’t done anything, she’s innocent!”_

_Rachel’s vision stings with unshed tears, and she closes her eyes in a fruitless attempt to block out the sickening sounds. Judy’s begs go unheard, and Russell advances on Lucy, sending a powerful kick to her stomach._

_The six-year-old cries out in pain, hunching over in the feral position and trying to shield herself from the incoming volley of attacks. The sounds of quiet sobs and pleads seem to never end, each ripping another hole in Rachel’s heart. Counting to ten, she hopes for both her own and Quinn’s sake that time will go by quicker, not the antagonizing slow pace it’s moving at right now. Trying to stay strong, Rachel goes through her breathing exercises, because she knows that the worst is yet to come._

_Finally, the sound of a vase meeting resistance before falling to the floor reverberates throughout the room, and Rachel watches as Russell stumbles a step, before turning around and snarling at Judy, who’s sporting an absolutely terrified look, face frozen in shock at what she just did. “You bitch!”_

_Picking up one of the bigger pieces of the glass debris, he growls and lungs for the petrified woman. Rachel, out of instinct, can’t help but leap in front of Judy, only to feel a cold whiplash as Russell passes through her._

_Gasping at the sensation, she staggers back to the wall. The feeling of something passing through her is probably one the brunette will never get used to, the cold spreading from an unknown chasm haunting._

_She barely has time to react before Lucy is on Russell’s back, arms around his neck in a vice-grip, and the young girl screams, “Stop!”_

_Her hands start emitting a buzzing blue, sparks flying everywhere, and the smell of burnt flesh hits Rachel. Russell is screaming now, along with Lucy, frantically trying to fling her off his back, but the six-year-old is hanging on tight, unable to let go. Judy is at the side, staring with dreadful eyes and hands covering her mouth._

_Hearing steps from downstairs, Rachel knows what’s going to happen soon, and she lets out a breath. The disgusting visual of Russell’s steaming neck challenges her gag reflex, but somewhere deep within her, she thinks he deserved every bit of pain that was coming to him._

_Soon, Russell falls to the floor in a boneless heap, neck marred by red and pinks, finally out of Lucy’s grasp._

_Cruelly, Rachel scoffs. The man didn’t nearly hurt as much as Quinn and Judy did. Faintly, she hears the steadily getting louder hisses, and right as Rachel tightens her jaw, three dracanae slither in._

_Lucy only stands before them, not even registering the monsters, gaze solely focused on Russell’s limp body._

_The dracanae growl, and the one in the middle sneers, bringing its sword up. Rachel’s heart speeds up, and Judy lets out a cry, warning her daughter. Maybe Lucy sees the blow coming, and doesn’t care. Either way, the blow doesn’t hit her._

_It hits Judy instead._

_Judy lets out a grunt, facing Lucy, and falls forward, arms around her daughter, trying to protect her with her last breath._

_Before she goes slack, she weakly mummers something that Rachel doesn’t hear, but rather_ feels _._ I’m sorry.

 _Luc-No, it’s_ Quinn _now, looks from Russell’s body, to Judy’s, to the three dracanae, and Rachel exhales._

_Quinn erupts in lightning._

 

X-X-X-X-X

“Rachel!”

She’s awoken by Quinn’s loud sob, and she can feel her own tears flowing down her face.

Reaching for the body that’s already tightly wrapped around her, she tries to pull the blonde even closer.

Everything – the Empousa incident, Russell’s oppressing rule, Rachel’s and Quinn’s guilt feeding each other through their empathy link – hits her all at once, and she lets out a pained gasp in reply.

“Quinn,” she mumbles the name over and over again, grasping at her shirt to tug her impossibly closer, always closer.

She’s trying to control her breakdown, and she can tell from the chokes from Quinn that the other girl is trying to as well, and that somehow makes it even worse. The tears seem to wash over her again and again, never stopping, and she struggles to breathe.

“Fuck,” Quinn says, the sound strangled, “I-I can’t-”

“I know,” Rachel breathes against her collar, head buried in the blonde’s chest, and she can feel Quinn burrowing her head in her hair as well, breathing in her scent desperately like it’s the air she breathes.

There’s a big fucking gaping hole in her chest, and she’s trying to be strong, strong for Quinn, but _fuck_ everything feels numb and hurts all at once and she just can’t deal with her shit right now.

They stay like that, for gods know how long, enwrapped in each other, quietly sobbing their hearts out, until Rachel finally brings herself to pull away at the same time Quinn does, and they both ask, “Are you okay?”, in cracked and broken voices.

It would almost be funny how in tune they are, if not for the fact that it’s reminding Rachel of what she could but _can’t_ have, and the thought just makes her want to hide in Quinn’s shoulder and warmth and never come out.

But that would be selfish of her, and she’s been so selfish already.

“You know, I really fucking hate that sentence,” it’s Quinn who breaks the silence, sending a mirthless laugh into the night. “Is anyone ever fucking okay?”

 _‘Fuck no,’_ is what Rachel sends through their link, not trusting herself enough to speak without falling apart. _‘But then again, what is there to ask besides that anyway?’_

Quinn manages a snort, and wraps her arms around Rachel, pulling her tight against herself. “Hold me?”

They’ll speak of this – the dreams, _everything_ – in the morning, there’s no doubt, but right now, they’ll just enjoy the tranquil comfort of the other’s presence, and just let go for a while. The raw vulnerability of it all sends Rachel flying on a trip, and she puts her arms around the blonde’s midsection, burrowing into her lifeline and grasping on with all her heart. “Always.”

 

X-X-X-X-X

They do speak of it in the morning.

It’s awkward and full of tears and soft ‘Oh, sweetie’s, and they spend most of their daylight hours talking and opening up about their fears and guilts and Quinn makes many jokes about how they’ve turned into a therapy group, but they make it through.

Rachel’s fathers send them lots and lots of flying kisses and bear hugs, and by the end of the day, she’s feeling a lot better.

Emerging from the kitchen with a freshly baked batch of cookies, she catches the tail end of Quinn’s hushed conversation with her fathers, and she may or may not eavesdrops a little bit.

“-our blessings, Quinn. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you. Well, that and our Rachel, of course.”

“Hopefully it goes off without a hitch,” Quinn replies, excitement in her voice, “The Forth of July can’t come soon enough, but it’s worth it.”

Wait, what the Hades?

Quinn’s planning something for most likely the Fourth of July fireworks, which’s basically the biggest dating event during the year, but that means- What the fuck?

Pushing off the confusion and slight jealousy, she turns around the corner, putting on a show face, “I’m done with the cookies, what’s going on?”

And of all things, Quinn blushes, like full on, rosy cheeks, _blushes_.

Rachel prides herself on being a terrific actress, but fuck if it’s hard to keep her twitching smile up. She knows that Quinn would never be hers, but she’d never thought that she’d actually have to watch Quinn fall for and then woo someone else.

It fucking sucks.

There’re no other words to describe it. Rachel might be overly crass here, but all through their dinner, it’s like something is tearing at her, and she can’t bring herself to pull out any enthusiasm.

Quinn notices, obviously, because she’s too perfect for her own good, and she sends through their link, _‘What’s wrong?’_

Shaking her head slightly, she wills herself to put on a smile, _‘I’m fine.’_

The blonde raises her eyebrow in a perfect Fabray™ fashion, and it’s clear she’s not buying it. _‘The last time you frowned and pouted that hard was when you found out I’d never watched Funny Girl before, so spill.’_

Rachel bites her lip, not knowing how to reply, and she’s pretty sure she imagines Quinn honing in on the action. She’s about to spout more excuses when Hiram interrupts, “Look girls, I know you have your soulmate-esque telepathy going on, but we old men aren’t privy to your demigod – or whatever Quinn is – voodoo, so come out of la la land, yeah?”

Predictably, Rachel blushes and sputters, while Quinn smirks and lets a little grin appear on her face, and that’s the end of that.

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

They _still_ don’t talk about the almost-kiss and, they _still_ don’t about the ‘I love you’.

Rachel finishes the song.

In other words, it means that Quinn starts spending less time with her and more time with _Sam_.

Fucking Sam, with his goddamn stupid surfer Poseidon legacy chill attitude, and his aggravating haircut that he got last month that doesn’t make him look like JB, and ughhhh, is it wrong to say that Rachel hates him, just a tiny bit? I mean, they’re like Barbie and Ken for Hades’ sake!

So yes, Rachel finishes the song.

It’s not like Quinn’s pulling away, per say, in fact, she’s still as tactile as ever with her, but whenever Rachel wants to hang out with the blonde, the other girl seems to be busy with something.

Quinn’s apologized for it, saying that it was important, but judging from Rachel’s spies – _cough_ she means, intel – Kurt and the new Hades’ legacy Tina – Quinn is always busy with _Sam_ , always going to his cabin to do _something_ and it’s driving Rachel crazy!

Soon, the Fourth of July arrives all-too-quickly, because Rachel’s sure that Quinn’s going to ask Sam out during the fireworks while the brunette sobs and weeps alone in bed, but she persists.

In one last hurrah, she agrees to performing at the concert that her cabin always holds before the fireworks, and she’s not afraid of singing her song, since she knows that Quinn will be _busy_ doing something during it.

She doesn’t know what exactly she wants from this. Everyone in camp knows she’s bisexual and supports her for it, so it’s definitely not her coming out song, and they pretty much all know she likes Quinn at this point too, so the obvious giant flashing neon lights glowing at the daughter of Zeus in the song shouldn’t alarm them either.

She has accepted her fate of just being Quinn’s best friend ever since they opened their empathy link, but there’s still a small slither of hope within her, that somehow, everything will turn out fine. She’s running on barely nothing now, because she’s not sure how she’ll bear seeing Quinn and Sam together after she asks him out. He’ll say yes, obviously, because really, _who says_ _no to Quinn Fabray?_ , and then they’ll have wonderful and happy domestic bliss while Rachel goes and drowns herself in a bathtub.

…Okay, maybe she’s exaggerating a little bit, what with her dramatic tendencies, and she’s pretty sure Quinn would go down to the Underworld to physically drag her back only to kill her for being so stupid if she did attempt anything of the sort.

But she digresses.

Standing in the middle of the amphitheater, she feels the same rush of adrenaline every time she prepares to perform, and from her position, she can see every face and person staring at her in anticipation. She breathes.

_This is what she’s made for._

She lets the opening beats of the song flow through her, and she _sings_.

_She's staring me down with those electric eyes_  
_No matter how hard I try,_  
_I can't escape that gaze tonight_  
_That girl’s up in the atmosphere_  
_That girl’s up in the atmosphere_

Drawing all her emotion, she lets all her pent-up feelings of desperation and longing come out in her voice, the only way she knows how to. She hears the crowd cheering her on, and it’s like a fuel, giving her more energy.

Pictures of Quinn’s controlled grace fill her mind, but are quickly replaced by the rare scenes of when she lets herself go, moving without a care in the world but yet doing it with such elegance it takes Rachel’s breath away as she prances around the amphitheater.

_And I've been catching myself thinking of it_  
_It was 3 in the morning_  
_Every day I chase after her_  
_But I can't catch lightning_  
_No, I can't catch lightning_

She’s pouring her yearning heart out to a crowd that probably knows nothing about her story, but being about to scream the lyrics out and vent about her frustrations feels good, no doubt about it. Jumping around the kind-of stage along with her friends with a passioned fervor, she’s working up the crowd, and they’re all dancing and clapping along with her.

_She'll make you believe everything she wants_  
_Make you think that you're the one_  
_She will keep you there_  
_That girl’s up in the atmosphere_  
_She’s way up in the atmosphere_

A small part of her sometimes resents how Quinn seems to lead her on, giving her all her time and attention and making her feel as if she’s worth something, and she channels all that sorrow and angst into her performance.

Mike and Brittany dance in sync behind her, and she lets herself be spun as she belts the lyrics out, a small but sincere smile on her lips as the crowd seems to be even more enthusiastic as her.

_And I've been waiting, waiting, waiting for you_  
_Anticipating_  
_Chasing after things that you do_  
_But I can't catch lighting_  
_No, I can't catch lightning_

Running through the chorus one last time, the crowd sings along with her tune, and she feels the familiar embrace of stage thrill rush through her being, capturing her and giving her the highest of highs. There’s nothing quite like the live ecstasy of performing.

_She's staring me down with those electric eyes_  
_No matter how hard I try,_  
_I can't escape that gaze tonight_  
_But I can't catch lighting_

The entire crowd is deafening in its volume, whoops and whistles and cheers filling the void in Rachel’s chest, and she genuinely grins wide, laughing and smiling with her friends next to her through her pants of exertion.

If only this song didn’t feel like saying goodbye to Quinn.

 

X-X-X-X-X

 

Hiding in one of the canoe lake houses until the enviable fireworks start, Rachel sits in the corner, sulking and brooding with the urge to play some My Chemical Romance.

It’s been ten minutes since she finished her song and snuck off to mope in private, and the adrenaline rush has long left her body.

She’s perfectly content to be left in her misery, until Quinn opens the door, leaning on the frame with a blank look on her face, arms crossed.

Rachel instantly knows that Quinn knows what happened, and swears up a storm internally. She fucking blew it, didn’t she?

She’s about to rant a panicked apology and hope Quinn will still stay her friend, when the blonde speaks, pushing her body off the doorframe.

“You can’t catch lightning…But you _can_ be struck by it.”

Her low and husky voice catches her by surprise, and Rachel barely has enough time to let her jaw drop in confusion before Quinn’s taken three long strides towards her, grabbed her chin with her other hand cupping her cheek, and crashed their lips together.

Rachel’s imagined this moment. Like, _a lot_.

But fuck, it feels _so much better_ in person.

The only word she can use to describe the kiss is electric, because Quinn’s lips are soft, pressing wonderfully against her own, and Rachel kisses back with fervor once she realizes what’s going on.

She’s always dreamt Quinn to be an amazing kisser – the girl is basically perfect at everything anyway – and if anything, Rachel’s _under_ estimated her ability. Quinn’s lips move with purpose, every move seeking to decimate the brunette and build her back up again, and Rachel seems to go through every cliché at once.

A beautiful symphony rages behind her, butterflies hammering against her stomach, she goes weak at the knees, and Rachel’s pretty sure that there are actually explosions of fireworks happening, judging by the loud sounds coming from the beach’s direction. Every beat and moment of her seventeen years of life fade out of existence, and only _Quinn_ and _Rachel_ is left.

Rachel’s hands move intuitively, like they know what to do even better than she does, one moving to Quinn’s hip and one to her smooth pale neck. The blonde’s shirt riles up a bit, and Rachel’s fingers swipe across the supple skin, causing Quinn to groan quietly against her lips.

Wanting to hear the sound again, Rachel lets her hand caress the daughter of Zeus’ firm stomach, relishing how Quinn’s abs flex as she runs her fingers over them. Quinn seems to very much enjoy it too, as a low rumble fills her mouth.

The hand holding her chin moves to her hair, running through them almost reverently, giving experimental tugs. The pleasant pressure sends Rachel reeling, and she pushes Quinn closer, hips shifting to assure as much contact as possible.

The blonde tilts her head as to deepen the kiss, and Rachel has no qualms about that, rest assured, because _fuck, she’s kissing Quinn Fabray and it’s fucking amazing_.

She’s on cloud nine, intoxicated by the exhilarating rush, and then – _oh fuck was that a tongue?_ The sensation makes Rachel hot all over, and wanting to feel it again, she denies Quinn access as the blonde does it once more.

A growl tears itself out of Quinn’s throat, and she bites at the diva’s bottom lip, tugging playfully. It’s – _ah!_ – It’s nothing short of an ecstasy-filled experience, and Rachel gasps in pleasure. The other girl uses the opportunity to plunge her tongue into Rachel’s very willing mouth, and _ohmygod she’s French-kissing the girl of her dreams, is this real or not, because Hypnos, if this isn’t real, she’s going to be severely pissed._

Her train of thought absolutely goes off the rails as Quinn’s tongue slides over hers, stars appearing under her eyelids, and their tongues fight for dominance in an artful dance that seems to lead nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Of course, Rachel is all too happy to let the blonde take the lead and claim her mouth, because the thought of Quinn Fabray topping her makes her – _ugh_ , she’s soaking _wet_ already.

The implications of the kiss go way over Rachel’s head – who would have the sanity to think while being kissed like _that_ – and she whimpers as the other girl swipes her tongue along the roof of her mouth. Wanting to make this as memorable for Quinn as it definitely will be for her, Rachel sucks on the blonde’s tongue, the feeling sending Rachel tumbling further and further down the rabbit hole that is Quinn Fabray. She swears, she never wants to stop kissing the other girl; it’s the most blissful thing she’s ever had the pleasure to feel.

When a guttural moan lets loose from Quinn’s mouth into her own, Rachel _buzzes_ , a hum rushing through her body, and she lets herself be pushed to the wall, giving a desperate whine of her own as her form is molded against Quinn’s perfectly.

It’s only when Rachel’s thumb swipes against the underside of Quinn’s breast through her bra that the blonde regains some semblance of control, pulling her now swollen and red puffy lips away from hers with a groan.

Quinn’s now forehead resting against hers, Rachel can’t bring herself to move her hand away from the other girl’s ribs, thoughts running through her frazzled mind at the speed of light, with only wanton pants filling the silence. Hazel eyes pierce warm brown, and Quinn breathes out, “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for _ages_.”

It’s what prompts the brunette to tumble out of their warm embrace with a yelp, blushing as her fingers slide over velvety skin, and with a deer-in-headlights look, pant through ragged breathes, “But…Sam…I thought-”

She’s in full panic-mode now that the kiss has ended, overthinking and rethinking everything, but it’s disrupted when she hears Quinn’s incredulous laugh. “Wait, you thought I was into _Sam_?”

Indignant and more than confused, the diva lets herself be pulled by the hand out of the boat house, where the fireworks are still going strong. They’re just visible from where the two at, and Quinn mumbles under her breath, “Made it just in time.”

The next fireworks blast into the air, forming a heart with…RBB x LQF in the middle. Wait, what? She looks with confused eyes at Quinn, who’s currently softly smiling at her with tinted cheeks, and the blonde shakes her head in amusement, jerking her head towards the sky as if to tell the shorter girl to watch the next one.

Rachel does.

And promptly has her jaw drop as she sees the next fireworks burst into the sky, spelling out a string of words.

_Go out with me?_

The brunette spins on her heel to stare at Quinn, not quite believing it. The other girl would never be so cruel as to play such a prank on her, but that would mean…

“I hoped that your ‘I love you’ meant something, so I asked Sam to help me plan out the fireworks,” Quinn explains, shrugging with her half-smile, “And I suggested the trip to Lima because I wanted to get your dads’ blessings.”

Rachel’s brain whirls at a million miles per second, and just like that, everything falls into place.

It’s almost too good to be true, but she focuses her gaze on Quinn, who’s wearing an adorably cute expression, hesitant and hopeful all at once.

A warm sensation blooms throughout her chest, and Rachel’s faced with the fact that out of everyone Quinn could’ve had, she chose _her_ , and planned all this out just for the brunette. Love wells in her entire being, starting from her tippy toes all the way to her finger-pads, and she crashes into Quinn, mummering “Yes” into soft lips as if there was any doubt and she kisses Quinn with all the might she has.

The kiss they shared before was passionate yet tender.

This one is all rough and desire.

Rachel lets years of longing and want loose as she tangles her tongue with Quinn’s, her back meeting resistance as Quinn pushes her against the nearest surface. Unafraid now, she lets out lustful mewls without hesitation, and Quinn moans in return.

The idea of Quinn moaning – moaning all because and for her, gives Rachel a head rush, and she clenches her thighs together tightly, her panties already sticking against her. As Quinn presses open-mouthed kisses down her neck, finding her pulse point and latching onto it, sucking harshly, the blonde pants out, “I’m – _fuck_ – trying _really_ hard to be chivalrous here, even planned out our entire date and was going – oh _god –_ was going to kiss you goodnight at the doorstep like the perfect gentleman af-after serenading you, but _damn_ if you’re making it really fucking hard not to pin you down and ravish you right now.”

“Then fucking _do it_ ,” Rachel groans, pressing Quinn’s head to her neck, and when a hand squeezes her ass, she _dies_ , choking out, “Shit, that feels good!”

She wants nothing more than to drag Quinn into the boat house and have her wicked way with her right then and there, but she knows that she wants everything to be _perfect_ , the way the blonde deserves it to be, and barely restrains herself from doing what she wants.

Turns out, Quinn doesn’t like that, and pulls the hand currently in the brunette’s hair away to shove Rachel’s hand up her shirt and to her breast. Rachel gropes instinctively, running a thumb over a hardened nipple under lacy fabric, and hips buck against each other, searching for contact.

Reluctantly, Rachel pulls away with a frustrated grunt, panting, “We…We have to s-slow down.”

“Yeah, I know,” the blonde groans back, clearly as unsatisfied as her.

Honestly, they should’ve done this a loooong time ago, because how the fuck has Rachel managed to live this long being deprived of Quinn’s kisses, she has no idea, but she’d be damned if she won’t take advantage of this moment and make up for all the time lost.

They stay like that for a while, locked in their intimate embrace, until Rachel says, “Quinn, you know I appreciate theatrics as much as the next Barbra fanatic, and I applaud your effort, but did you _have_ to make me suffer through all that heartbreak first?”

Quinn laughs softly against her lips, breath warm and salty, and kisses her again. “It’s not _my_ fault you were so oblivious.”

Gasping dramatically, the brunette gears herself up for a speech, but then Quinn claims her lips to shut her up, and well, who’s Rachel to deny her?

Being stuck down by the lightning bolt that is Lucy Quinn Fabray definitely wasn’t a part of her plan, but _damn_ if she isn’t lucky that she managed to catch her anyway.

 

 

 

** FIN **


End file.
